


I will die for you

by Minita



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Fluff, Jon remained at the Wall, but not for long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 16:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minita/pseuds/Minita
Summary: It’s the old trope, boy is willing to die for the girl he loves.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38
Collections: JonsaWeek2019





	I will die for you

Jon used to wake up every morning expecting nothing different. Same cold, dark rooms, same dry, salty ham from the increasingly dwelling resources of the Night’s Watch. Disappearing like the men themselves. 

Everyday another man would leave. A few survivors from the Long Night would go to his room and ask respectfully, some even called him Lord Commander. What to do? Grant them their petitions? And have one less horse, one less pair of hands to help keep this ruin standing? Others simply disappeared in the middle of the night without a word. At the beginning he chased them, but he soon saw the hopelessness of it. 

Jon has been done with hope for a very long time now, the same time he has been playing that day at the pier in King’s Landing over and over in his mind, seeing her, her hair, the tears in her eyes. She betrayed him of course, she told his secret. And he betrayed her too. Gave up the North, spit on Robb’s memory, on Father’s. Can they ever find forgiveness? Does she even desires it? 

She wrote occasionally, formally, the Queen in the North this, the Queen in the North that. He gave up completely years ago, too tired to see her Stark seal once more, to imagine her white long fingers wrapped around the scroll. His steward read them and informed him. This scroll was not like any other. This one had turned his life upside down again.

None of the words made sense when he heard them. He had asked Mathew to read it twice. 

“To the Lord Commander Jon Snow,

Hoping this letter finds you well, I am pleased to inform you that after consultation with King Brandon it has been decided the ancient order of the Night’s Watch is to be dismantled, for it serves no purpose now that the threat from beyond the Wall ended.

As Queen in the North I have granted a pardon to every remaining member, their vows no longer binding, and I offer them a choice, those who wish so can return to their hometowns. The rest can join the northern efforts to make our vacant lands productive. Salary cannot be offered to them at the moment but food and lodging. 

I expect you will inform the men and make arrangements.

Sansa Stark. Queen in the North.”

As it turned out, no announcement was necessary, the contents of the letter filtered to the men and before he could do anything they had all left. He found himself riding to Winterfell. Just him, Matthew and old Gunn, so old he couldn’t remember his own town. 

“It had a large bark tree at the entrance,” was all he could recall. 

When they spot the high walls of Winterfell Jon feels something bitter in his heart, guilt, memories, anger, regret, maybe all at once. When he enters the courtyard not a brother of the Night’s Watch, not a King, not even a kneeler, he feels as alone in the world as old Gunn.

She’s nowhere to be seen. The castle is as busy as always, servants, soldiers, people going around their day. Jon doesn’t identify himself just yet, hiding under his black coat. After dinner in the kitchens, he goes outside to relieve himself, when he hears footsteps rustle the fresh snow. The moonlight is obscured by clouds but he thinks he can make up the silhouette of a man.

Jon has killed ice dead men. He has fought Giants, wildlings, Ramsay’s well trained soldiers. He has flown a dragon, he knows all kinds of fear, and yet, there’s a deep hole in his guts right now, and panic rises in him. He doesn’t have to tell his feet, as they follow the man on their own.

They pass the kitchens, the armoury, the newly restored keep, and with every step Jon’s heart beats harder and harder. He grabs Longclaw tight when the mysterious man enters the Godswood. Jon instinctively hides behind a tree and watches as the man approaches the heart tree. 

It takes him a while to see her, her red hair hidden under a black hood, her cloak dark too. Her head is inclined as if praying. Jon counts the steps from his hiding place to her as he keeps his gaze on the man. 

“If he were her servant he would call on her,” Jon thinks, “call on her, call on her,” he prays silently.

“Your Grace?” calls the man. 

Sansa turns and in an instant Jon’s world is upside down, yet again. 

Jon doesn’t see her, he doesn’t see him, all he can see is a bow and arrow. He doesn’t remember running to her. He gasps for breath, an arrow in his chest piercing through his lounges, through his mind. And then she’s there, screaming orders, Jon sees men in grey Stark armour holding the attacker and then they all blur. The pain in his chest overcomes him, throwing him around like the ocean waves until her hands hold him, everything is white, everything is red.

“Jon, Jon, don’t die, please, please” Her beautiful face looks at him in anguish, “why did you do it? Why?”

He manages to smile before passing out in her arms.

“Because, Sansa, I will die for you gladly.”


End file.
